Blaze of Glory (Year the First)
by Quiet Spell
Summary: Miko Alura, a young girl who has dreamed of experiencing the world of magic ever since her father told her stories of when he attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has finally received the letter that will forever change her world. (PLEASE NOTE: There may be several days between updates! 11-20 paged chapters take a little while to write. Thank you!)
1. Supplies for the Magical

Diagon Alley, I have to say, is one of the coolest places I have ever been to.

The shops, the people, and just the general appearance of it were enough to leave me awe-struck.

Although my father had told me many things about the world of magic before, I had never been formally introduced to it. And let me tell you – now that I had been, I was never, _ever _leaving it behind.

My name is Miko Joyce Alura. Three days ago, I received the letter that would change my life.

The letter accepting me into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Even though I turned eleven last May, I just now got my letter. I wasn't entirely sure if only I had received my letter exactly a week from the day I would set off for the school or if everybody else did, too, but I was frantically running around my fairly-large house like a chicken whose head had been chopped off (if you knew me well you would immediately notice something was wrong, seeing as I'm typically a very calm person and being frantic was a very out-of-character act for me), because the next day I was leaving for Hogwarts and I hadn't even started packing. "Dad," I gasped in between breaths, for I had been darting around my room looking for some of the items on the list, "I don't have _any _of this stuff! I'll have to leave for school _totally unprepared! _What if the other kids laugh at me, or I fail all my classes?"

My dad just laughed.

"Miki," He said, calling me by my annoyingly cute pet name, "as I've been trying to tell you for the past few minutes, I know just the place to get all of those things."

I sighed and walked over to the terrarium where I kept my pet snake, Ima. He was a non-poisonous Corn Snake who had never bitten anyone. I had received him last year for my tenth birthday.

I had wanted a cat, but I'm allergic, so unfortunately, that wouldn't have worked out. But Ima had turned out to be the best pet I could hope for, so that was alright.

Ima wasn't the most social pet ever, but he was very friendly toward me. Like I said, he never bit anyone, and we always had fun playing. When something bad happened, Ima was always there to cheer me up. That's why we were best friends. We just understood one another.

Ima hissed and slithered up my arm, and then wrapped around the back of my neck.

"Do you think they'll let me take Ima instead of a cat, owl or toad?" I asked, glancing over at my father.

"I don't know." He said, "I'm guessing not this year. But if you get to know the teachers, and be the best student you can be, maybe next year."

I nodded and gently plucked Ima off my shoulders, placing him back in his terrarium.

"As I was saying," my dad continued, "I know the best place to get all the items you'll need – and probably more."

Slowly, it dawned on me what he was talking about, and a grin crept onto my face.

"You mean you'll finally take me there?" I asked, trying to contain my excitement.

"I think it's time." My father told me with an affirmative nod.

Since I was very little, my father had told me stories about the wizard world.

We lived in America when I was little. Ordinarily, witches born in America would attend Salem's Witches' Institute, but my father had studied at Hogwarts when he was a boy, since he had been raised in London. He asked Dumbledore if I could attend the school earlier this year, even though I just got my letter of acceptance three days ago. And plus, I was currently living in London, so that made a difference, too.

The point is, I had never been to Diagon Alley (or any of the other famous magic places in London). My father said he was holding back so it would be more of a surprise when I went to buy supplies, for he and my mother both knew I would be admitted into Hogwarts.

"When do we go?" I asked my father.

"How does right now sound?" My father said with his trademark grin.

I smiled.

* * *

My mother, my father and I walked down Diagon Alley. I gazed around in wonder at the buildings, and especially the _people_. They all wore the odd robes and hats my parents had described to me so many times.

I felt out of place – not only because of my regular, everyday clothing, but because of my American accent. I wasn't talking to anyone, but sometimes when I walked down the street after school talking to my friends, people would shoot me weird looks. They weren't trying to be rude – they were just little glances out of the corners of their eyes. But I'm an observant person.

"'A uniform, three sets of plain work robes, one pointed hat, one pair of protective gloves, one winter cloak, and name tags, which must be worn at all times. Other equipment includes a wand, a cauldron, a set of glass or crystal phials, a telescope, a set of brass scales, and students may also bring an owl, cat or toad.'" My mother read off the list that had been included in my letter of acceptance. I walked along behind my parents at a steady pace, brushing past strangers.

Unfortunately, at that moment, and tripped on a loose cobblestone and stumbled into some other kid.

He had unkempt, brown hair and round glasses resting perfectly on the bridge of his nose. He looked to be about my age.

"Whoops," I said, "sorry. Won't happen again."

"Don't worry about it." The boy said, and I hurried to catch up with my parents, who were waiting just ahead for me.

"Feeling a bit clumsy today, Miko-licious?" My mother said, using my most-hated nickname in a teasing way.

"Be quiet!" I muttered, punching her in the arm lightly for good measure.

"Well," My father said, "If we want to get all of this shopping done in one day, I suggest we split up. Donora, if you take care of the clothes shopping, we'll take care of the rest." My father winked at my mother for dramatic effect. She rolled her eyes at him in a playful way, and smiled.

"You got it." She said. "Let's meet back here in two hours. Okay? Stay out of trouble, you two."

"Aww," My father said, "you worry too much."

My mother gave a little laugh, waved and walked away.

"Okay, Miko," my father said, turning to me. "The wand shop is right over there – it's called Ollivanders Wand Shop, if you hadn't seen that already. I'm going to step into the shop next door and find some of the other items on your list. If I finish first, I'll come meet you inside there. If you find your wand first, you're to come _straight _to me. No detours. Diagon Alley is nice, but there are all types of people in the world. You understand?"

"Yes."

"You have your money?"

"Yes, it's right here in my front pocket."

"You have your never-dwindling seriousness?" My father grinned, and rubbed my head with his hand.

"Yep!" I chuckled, batting his hand away. "You worry too much."

"I just don't want my little girl to get swept up in all the excitement. Remember, no detours."

"I know, I know!"

I darted away from him before he could say another word, glancing back at him over my shoulder quickly as I ran. He grinned, waving at me. I forced a small smile onto my face and waved back.

I stopped just outside of the wand shop. I sucked in a breath, my heart fluttering in my chest. I wasn't nervous, I realized, as I analyzed my feeling inside my head. I was just excited. Finally, I got to experience the world I had dreamed about for so long! I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it in a slow clockwise circle, and stepped inside.

"…Terrible," a man with white, wild hair at the counter whom I immediately assumed was the owner was saying to a boy in a semi-whisper, "terrible, but great."

The boy, I realized upon examining him closer, was the same once I had bumped into outside. I suspected he was getting his wand, too.

The man's gaze flickered back towards me for a half a second. Most people would have missed it. I felt my muscles tense up.

"But enough about that!" The man exclaimed loudly. "Take great care of this wand, you hear? Polish it whenever it gets dull, and keep it out of harm's way. Of course"-the man paused to wink at the boy-"don't be afraid to whip it out when trouble calls."

"I will, sir." The boy said, smiling.

"Now, off with you! You have much to do before you depart for Hogwarts. Take care of yourself, Mr. Potter."

Potter?

"Thank you very much, sir." The young brunette said, placing some coins in his hand. "Keep the change."

Then he turned and walked toward the door, which I was standing in front of.

"Oh," He said, "hello again. I'm sorry, but there's somewhere I have to be. Could you please…?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed rather loudly, stepping out of the way of the door. "Of course. Sorry."

"Thanks."

As the door closed, I stood there feeling rather dumbfounded.

My parents, as I said, told me lots of stories, and the one of "the Boy Who Lived" or Harry Potter was among them. And right when he had turned around, his bangs swept aside for a split second, I had seen it.

The scar.

I thought it was pretty amazing that I had just met one of my childhood heroes, and that he would be going to the same school as me, but I wasn't about to freak out over it like some girls might. No, that definitely wasn't my style. And I wouldn't force my friendship on him either, like I knew some people would. If he was interested in getting to know me, he could approach me on his own. For all I knew, he could've been some stuck-up, spoiled brat (I kind of doubted that, though).

The owner turned toward me and smiled.

"Ah, yes! The child of young Ian. You look just like your father, dear."

"That's what a lot of people tell me." I said. "How do you know my father? Did he get his first wand here?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did! I can still imagine it – the young boy with raven black hair and bright, shining green eyes walking into the shop with such bravado. But there's something different about you. I have a feeling that your wand and his will be quite different."

He was probably right. Although my black hair and green eyes matched my father's perfectly, our personalities were far from similar. My mother was a goofball, too - I was quite different from both of them.

"So, let's get down to business. My name is Ollivander. Garrick Ollivander, at your service."

He bowed dramatically.

"So, let's start you off with this wand." He said, selecting a box that had been precariously perched on top of a stack of other rectangle-shaped boxes. He slid it open, and removed a white-yellow wand that was simple and had a bulb on the end for you to hold on to.

"Unicorn hair, Birch, 12 inches." Ollivander informed me, handing me the wand. I looked down at it, and waved it in the air.

Immediately, my bangs rose up in the air as if I had just rubbed a balloon on them.

"No, no." Ollivander mumbled, and rummaged around his collection of wands.

After a few minutes, he handed me a new wand. This one was a brown color with a spiral curling up around it in a slightly darker shade of brown.

"Dragon heart string, walnut, 11 ½ inches. Give it a try."

I did as he said, and flicked it in the air.

As soon as I did, the papers on Ollivander's desk started organizing themselves into neat, orderly piles. I looked down at the wand, and smiled faintly.

"Fantastic!" Ollivander exclaimed. "I've been meaning to clean that old thing off for weeks. It's funny, though – most witches and wizards require quite a few wand tests. No harm in getting right to it, though!"

I nodded in agreement, and handed Ollivander a pouch of coins.

"Is that enough?" I asked.

"For you, it's plenty." He said. "Have a nice day. Good luck in your new school!"

I said good-bye, and hurried out the door.

Outside the shop, with my new wand tucked away in my coat pocket safely, I turned and walked down the street to go to the shop next door as my father had instructed. It was literally _right next door, _with only an alley separating them

However, I stopped in front of the alley curiously when I heard a peculiar noise.

It sounded like…whimpering. And laughter.

The alley was fairly simple. It went down straight, and then branched off in two directions. But closer to me was another branch, and I pinpointed that as the location of the noises.

I stole a glance over my shoulder. If I hurried, I could still make it without my father ever knowing I took another route.

I started down the alley, making sure to stay light on my toes so whoever was down there wouldn't hear me.

I peeked around the bend in the alley cautiously, and looked at the scene unfolding within it.

There were four boys at the end of the alley. One was tall and lanky, and he was holding up a younger boy (whom I pegged to be nine or ten) up by his feet. There was a short, rotund boy standing off to the side, snickering loudly. The last one was a cruel-looking boy of average height with slicked-back blonde hair. He smirked as the tallest figure shook the poor younger boy up and down. I could tell he was in charge instantly.

"Give me his pack, Goyle," The fair-haired one commanded.

_Bullies. _I thought. _That's all they are. I hate bullies. _

The one called Goyle snatched the boy's backpack off of the ground and tossed it to the blonde, who started rummaging through it.

Unfortunately, at that moment, the short one spotted me.

"Hey, you!" He shouted. "Get out of here, scum!"

As I turned and darted away down the alley, I heard their voices.

"Who was that?" The blonde's voice echoed.

"Just some kid." The other one replied. "I chased her off. I doubt she'll blab."

I would have stayed, but I had no intentions of getting beat up. He was right though – I wasn't going to tell on them. But they did deserve to be punished…I'd just have to do it _my _way.

I was fairly certain they'd be going to Hogwarts, too. Like a lot of the boys and girls I'd seen so far, they looked my age. _And_ I had seen a supply list poking out of Goyle's pocket.

No, I decided. I wouldn't blab. I'd bide my time until the right opportunity arose.

I started back down the street toward the other shop.

If the famous Harry Potter and these boys were going to Hogwarts, I was in for an exciting year.


	2. Castle of Lamplight

"Which platform are we looking for again?" I asked my mother, as I glanced around the train station.

Today was the day! I couldn't wait to board the train to Hogwarts and begin a new life entirely, one with magic and excitement. For the first time in forever, I would lead a life that wasn't completely dull. I enjoyed my studies at my school – history and grammar, especially -, but it was time for me to pursue what I had always dreamed of. Magic.

"Platform nine and three quarters." My mother replied, as she steered my luggage trolley along. It was too heavy for me, as I had one entire suitcase dedicated specifically to books (and it was completely filled up, too). With that added weight, there was no way I could push the whole trolley.

"How is that even possible?" I muttered. "I mean, father told me about it, and I know its magic, but it's still a bit hard for me to wrap my head around."

My mother just laughed. She turned her head to look at me, and a strand of her Chestnut-brown hair fell out from her bun and into her dark brown eyes.

"You think this is hard for _you _to wrap your head around?" She said. "Imagine how confusing it was for me to understand when your father forced this all on me at once."

I contemplated this for a few moments. My mother was a muggle, and although she accepted the wizarding world as easily as she could, it couldn't have been simple, seeing as she was twenty six when she met my father and had no knowledge of magic at all.

"That's true." I consented with a shrug. "So, which way?"

"This way. Come on." My mother replied, walking off in the other direction. I hurried along behind her.

"I can take that." I said, grabbing the suitcase full of books off the top of the luggage trolley. My mother nodded her thanks to me quickly and we continued down the station.

* * *

We were almost to platforms nine and ten when someone crashed into me from behind. I dropped my suitcase first, which popped open and scattered books around the area. I fell on top of it, and my hand twisted underneath me with a painful jerk. My wand rolled out of my pocket, too, and I grabbed that quickly before any muggles saw (even if they did, they would probably just assume it was a play toy, but you can never be too careful).

"Watch where you're going, idiot," I hear someone snap from behind me.

I turned my head, only to see the blonde bow from the previous day. Instantly, rage started boiling inside me.

"Watch where _I _was going?" I growled. "I'm not the one who was prancing around King's Cross without a bloody care in the world. And another thing – I don't take orders from _bullies._"

I knew I said the wrong thing right away. What if he caught on that it was I who witnessed him and his goons picking on that other kid the day before? Then again, he might assume that I called him a bully for knocking me over. But I somehow doubted it. He didn't seem stupid.

Pushy, misguided, violent, rude and ugly, yes, but he seemed to have some wits about him.

But he just narrowed his eyes at me and said, "watch your step. Hogwarts is for the best – not arrogant know-it-alls." Then he kept walking.

_You're one to talk, _I thought bitterly.

Then it hit me that he knew somehow that I would be attending Hogwarts, too.

He'd probably seen my wand. That's too bad. Now he'd recognize me. And he would probably be in some of my classes, too. Great.

"Are you okay?" My mother said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed. "Please, don't touch that hand. I think I twisted it when I fell."

"Does it hurt badly?" She said, and bent over to examine it.

"Not horribly. Only when I move it." I lied. It hurt badly, but I didn't want to risk her making a scene out of it like she did sometimes when I was hurt.

She nodded, and bent over to start picking up the books that had been scattered around.

"Who was that boy?" She asked me, as she put the last of the books back into the suitcase and slammed it shut.

"Just some jerk in over his head." I replied with a snort, grabbing the trunk with my good hand.

"Can you carry that?" My mother asked.

I nodded, and we continued along.

We stood in between platforms nine and ten. I looked around with a confused expression for platform nine and three quarters.

"What now?" I asked.

"Umm," my mother replied, "I'm not sure."

"Mom!" I exclaimed. "Didn't Dad tell you before he went to work?!"

She smiled sheepishly.

"Yes…" she said, "But I was half asleep. You know I don't like mornings."

I sighed.

"Now what are we going to do?" I muttered.

"Excuse me," Someone said, "you're in the way. Could you please move over a bit?"

I turned, to see who the voice belonged to.

The first thing I noticed about her was her resemblance to me. Although she looked to be of Asian descent, and had brown, almond-shaped eyes, she had almost the exact same haircut and hair color as me. To me, it looked strange to see it on someone else.

"Oh," I stammered, moving out of the way, "Of course. I'm sorry."

"That's alright." She said simply. "I just didn't want to hit you with my trolley."

She stepped forward a bit, and then stopped to look at me again.

"I overheard your conversation with your mother." She said simply. "All you have to do is run straight at that wall, right over there. Like this."

She took off, running straight toward a brick wall ahead of us. I winced, expecting her to crash straight into it. I could tell my mother was expecting the same thing – her hands were clenched into fists and her eyes wide.

But then an odd thing happened; she ran right through it. Literally.

"Oh, yes," my mother said, "I suppose that _is _what your father told me."

I rolled my eyes at her good-naturedly.

"So, can you get through?" I asked her. "I mean, the barrier blocks all non-magical people from getting through, right?"

I used 'non-magical people' because I had never been fond of the term 'muggle.' I just didn't like the word.

"Your father says that the spell is lifted for the parents of students…" she said, with a trace of uncertainty in her voice, "but still, it's a bit nerve-racking."

"I'll go first, if it makes of you feel better," I said helpfully. She shook her head and grinned nervously.

"The longer I think about it the worse it'll get. I'd rather just get it over with."

She took a deep breath, held onto the trolley tightly, and ran straight at the wall.

Moments later she was gone, disappeared into the wall just like the girl we had seen a minute before.

I darted after her without thinking. At the last minute, I shut my eyes – I preferred not to see my own bloodstain on the wall. Even though I probably wouldn't get a chance to if I slammed into the wall.

But then I heard an increased buzz of people talking – there had already been one before, but it was louder now – and I could feel bodies around me.

I opened my eyes, and saw an entirely different station.

This place was _entirely _packed with people of all ages. Some of them wore robes and pointy hats, and some of them wore ordinary, everyday outfits. And although all the people looked special in their own way, I thought that the most impressive thing in the chamber wasn't any of the people – it was they big, beautiful train.

The _Hogwarts Express _was a sleek black-and-red steam locomotive. And although others may not have been all that impressed, I thought it was one of the prettiest trains I had ever seen. Something about it was just…enchanting, in my eyes.

"Hurry along, dear," my mother said, giving me a light shove on the back and snapping me back into reality, "I know it's impressive, but we have to get a move on. It's almost eleven."

I glanced down at my watch. She was right! It was ten fifty five, and the train left exactly at eleven. I had to hurry.

"Right," I said, "will you please take my luggage down to where everybody else's is while I find a spot on the train?"

"Of course." My mother replied, and then proceeded to pull me in for a hug.

"I'll miss you." She murmured.

"I'll miss you too." I said simply. "Tell dad I love him, okay?"

"Sure. Now get going!"

And with that, I was off running toward the train. I cast one final wave over my shoulder, and got aboard.

* * *

I had just settled down in one of the few remaining empty compartments when the door slid open again. In the doorway was the girl from earlier – you know, the one who told me how to get through the barrier into platform nine and three quarters.

"Can I sit with you?" She asked. "I would go sit with my other friends, but they had already filled up the compartment. I guess that's what I get for being late."

"Sure. I don't mind." I told her, and she sat down on the bench opposite to me.

"I'm Cho, by the way." She informed me matter-of-factly. "Cho Chang. Is this your first year going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes." I said affirmatively. "My name's Miko Alura. You've been to Hogwarts before?"

"This is my second year. I have to admit, I missed the place a lot, but mostly I missed my friends. It gets kind of lonely back home, after being in a crowded school for so long."

"Why were you late, if you don't mind my asking?" I inquired, trying to divert the conversation away from the topic of home. Sometimes I get a little homesick.

Cho grimaced.

"I was walking down a flight of stairs, and there was this boy, running around like he was in some _grand _hurry or something. He wasn't paying any mind whatsoever as to what the rest of us poor people might have been doing. Anyway, there were a _lot _of people on the stairs, coming up and down, and in his hurry he shoved one of them right into me! I dropped my luggage, and it scattered _everywhere. All _of it. And you know what? He didn't even stop to apologize! If he had offered to help or said he was sorry that would have been one thing, but, of course, he didn't. So my parents and I had to re-pack my suitcase, which cost us a good ten minutes or so."

I thought for a minute, mulling over what she told me in my head.

"This boy," I said, "he didn't happen to have combed-back blonde hair and grey eyes…would he?"

"I'm not sure about the eye color," Cho said, "but the hair description sounds pretty accurate."

"I ran into the same boy – or, rather, _he _ran into _me_. I twisted my hand."

I held up my hand for her to see. It looked slightly ajar.

"That's horrible!" She gasped. "I wonder if anybody else saw this boy."

"Yeah," I muttered, "small world."

* * *

I stepped off of the train and into the crisp, mountain air. I drew a large breath into my lungs – it was good to get some fresh air after being in the train for so long.

I turned my gaze onto a _very _tall man with long, dark brown hair and a beard with the same characteristics. He held up a lantern, and started calling out.

"Right, then! First years, this way please! Come on now, first years, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!"

I figured that was me, so I walked over in his direction and followed where he was going, joining the other cluster of the first-year students.

The man directed the beam of light from his lantern onto a familiar figure – Harry Potter.

"Hello, Harry," He said.

"Hey, Hagrid." Harry replied.

"Whoa," another boy with ginger hair said as he stared at the man in awe.

"Right, then! This way to the boats – come on now, follow me." The man called Hagrid said, leading us off in another direction.

_Boats? _I thought.

My father took me out on a sailboat once into the ocean. It didn't end well. I nearly vomited.

With a sigh, I trailed along behind the rest of the first years.

As it turns out, the boats weren't nearly as bad as I had expected.

* * *

I don't know if it was because they were smaller than the sailboat I had been in, because the water was calm or because someone had cast an anti-nausea charm on the boats, but, remarkably, I wasn't seasick.

In fact, I still remember the exhilarating moment when I first saw Hogwarts.

The boats approached the massive castle at a steady pace, giving us all a good chance to marvel at the first sight of what was going to be our home for a good while.

The castle on its own was astounding, but the way the lanterns and windows glowed made it breathtaking on a whole new level.

I wondered if the other students were as in awe as I was.

* * *

We ascended the stairs to what we were told back Hagrid was the Great Hall, where we would be eating our daily meals from now on.

I noticed, while we were climbing, the awful boy who knocked into both Cho and me in King's Cross. I made a mental note to avoid him, and to give him the death stare if he ever tried to talk to me.

_And _to put mouse droppings in his food some time as an additional serving of revenge (all pun intended).

We rounded the last turn and climbed the remainder of the staircases. At the top there was a woman who looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies, clothed in a green robe and a black, pointed hat. She looked down at us as the last of us climbed the staircase, and then addressed us warmly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

I vaguely wondered which house I would be sorted into, but didn't give much thought to it and listened as she went on.

"Your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."

"_TREVOR!" _A boy shouted, and rushed out of the crowd, scooping up a toad that had been on the floor. The woman (whom I now assumed was one of the professors) stepped back, a slightly disgusted expression on her face. The boy looked up at her sheepishly, murmured a quick "sorry," and rushed back into the crowd.

"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." The professor said, and walked back into the great hall.

"So it's true, then? What they were saying on the train."

I turned, only to see the voice belonged to none other than the pushy blonde in all his arrogance. I stuffed my hand into my pocket and balled it into a fist.

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

At this, whispers started rippling throughout the crowd. Some person I didn't know elbowed me in the ribs and gave me an excited look. I stared at them blankly.

"This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. And I'm Malfoy. _Draco _Malfoy." The self-important toad Malfoy said.

I heard a poorly-concealed _snrrk _of laughter come from the ginger boy with the dopey expression. Immediately, all heads snapped in his direction. Unfortunately for him, Draco Malfoy's was included.

"You think my name is funny, do you? I don't need to ask _yours. _Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley."

The boy's eyes dropped to the floor and a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. I felt bad for him.

"You'll soon find out that some wizard families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

_You're one to talk, _I thought bitterly, remembering the violent way his friends had behaved the day before.

"_I _can help you there." Malfoy finished, extending his hand toward Harry.

I think at that point, the entire crowd was holding their breath, including me.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Harry said.

_Good for you. _I thought. _At least there are a few competent people so far. _

At that moment, the woman (who I was still assuming was a professor) came back and whacked Malfoy on the shoulder with a scroll, giving him the stink-eye. He walked away with a scowl.

"We're ready for you now," she informed us. "Follow me."

And with that, we took our first steps into the Great Hall.

* * *

It was a very large room, filled with long tables which were almost all completely occupied with other students.

We were arranged in orderly lines in front of the tables, facing the segment of the room where the other professors were sitting. Directly in front of us, the woman who gave us our welcome speech stood next to a pedestal with a hat on it.

"Now, before we begin," She informed us, "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

With that, a man sitting directly in the middle of the long table where the staff sat stood up and scanned the room with his intense, blue eyes. He had long, slightly curly white hair that fell to the floor. His beard was the same way. Even before the other professor had introduced him to us as Dumbledore, I had recognized him from my father's elaborate tales. After a moment, he began to speak.

"I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. First years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to _all _students."

I wasn't very surprised by that piece of news. There were probably monsters in the woods, and I had no intention of going in unless it was absolutely imperative.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Everyone exchanged a few befuddled glances. What could be in that room that was so dangerous?

After the headmaster had spoken, the woman-professor from before unrolled a scroll, and began speaking to us again.

"Now, when I call your name, you will come forth, I will put the sorting hat on your head" –at this, she held up the hat which had been resting on the pedestal next to her- "and you will be sorted into your house."

She held the scroll p and studied it for a moment before calling out, "Hermione Granger."

A girl with brown hair near the front of the line of first years drew in a nervous breath, and walked over to the professor, muttering to herself. As she went, the boy Malfoy had said was a 'Weasley' leaned over and whispered something to Harry.

Hermione sat down on the pedestal as the woman placed the Sorting Hat on her head. She glanced up at it uncertainly, but said nothing.

"Ah, right, then. Hmm…_right. _Okay…_Gryffindor!" _The sorting hat called out abruptly after a few moments of pondering.

Automatically, I clapped along with everybody else as the other Gryffindors cheered excitedly. As the cheering died down, the professor called the next name on the list.

"Draco Malfoy."

Malfoy stepped forward slowly and sat down on the pedestal. I scowled at him disdainfully.2

_I hope it tells you to go live in the woods. _I thought to myself.

The Sorting Hat had not even been placed on his head before it called, "_Slytherin!_"

The audience cheered and clapped once again. This time, my hands did not move along with theirs.

"Susan Bones."

A girl with coppery hair that fell just paced her shoulders and a nervous expression walked forward, taking a seat on the pedestal. She closed her eyes, and took in a shaky breath.

"Where shall I put you? Let's see. I know; _Hufflepuff!_"

Susan ran off the stage with a happy expression on her face. I clapped; I was happy she was in the house she wanted.

_Which house do I want? _I thought to myself. _Not Slytherin, that's for sure._

"Ronald Weasley." The woman called out.

The ginger boy stepped forward and sat down on the pedestal, a sick expression on his face. I wondered if he was going to barf.

"_Hah!" _The Sorting Hat crowed, "Another Weasly. I know _just _what to do with you; _Gryffindor!"_

"Miko Alura."

I froze as the professor called out my name. But I drew in a breath and attempted to calm my nerves – I didn't want the whole school to have a bad first impression of me.

I took a seat on the wooden pedestal and stared down at my hands, which were clamped firmly together on my lap. I felt the Sorting Hat being placed on my head, and I tried to prepare myself for what was coming.

"Hmm…tricky one, this is. Smart, studious, witty – all the qualities of a Ravenclaw. But you _would _do well in Slytherin as well, with that temper and affinity for magic."

At this, I stiffened. Not only because I didn't want to be in Slytherin, but because the Sorting Hat said I had an "affinity for magic." I thought that was odd, since I had never cast a spell in my life.

"I see," the Sorting Hat continued thoughtfully. "Well, if that's the case…better be…_Ravenclaw!"_

The crowd cheered and applauded as my house was announced. I stood up, a very faint smile on my face, and speed walked over to the Ravenclaw table. I was never one for crowds.

I took a seat in between two people I didn't know and turned my attention back to the ceremony.

And again, the crowd rose with applause once more. I joined in, the hand I twisted feeling rather sore from clapping a lot.

"Harry Potter."

And there it was, the suspenseful moment all of us had waited for. We would find out which house the famous Harry Potter belonged in.

Hesitantly, Harry took a few steps forward, casting a glance backward as he went, and sat down on the pedestal. I felt bad for him. It couldn't be easy, knowing the crowd was lingering on your every thought and movement.

"Hmm," the Sorting hat said thoughtfully, "difficult. _Very _difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh, yes…and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you…?"

Harry started whispering something I couldn't her from where I was.

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure?" The Sorting Hat asked him.

_Whew, _I thought. _At least I know I'm not the only one with doubts about that house. _

"You could be great, you know. It's all here…in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, there's no doubt about that! No? Well, if you're sure, better be…_Gryffindor!" _

The whole Gryffindor table rose to their feet and cheered loudly. I clapped, too – I was happy someone else got their wish. Maybe the Sorting Hat had known that I didn't want Slytherin, too.

I zoned out for the rest of the ceremony. A few other people were put in Ravenclaw, but I didn't pay attention to them. I was lost in my mind, pondering how my life would play out at Hogwarts. Even though I couldn't predict a lot, of it, I could tell one thing for certain.

It was going to be _fun._


	3. Magical Mishaps

Immediately after the sorting ceremony, the feast began.

There were platters and platters of food, all of it stacked high on the plates, which suddenly appeared as soon as Dumbledore declared that the feast began. Only when the delicious scents hit my nose and my stomach growled loudly did I realize exactly how hungry I was. I couldn't wait to dig in!

I piled my plate with the many delicious foods as fast as I could, as so many of the others were doing. I guess we were all pretty hungry.

"Congratulations on making Ravenclaw!" A familiar voice called out to me.

I noticed just then that Cho was sitting at the end of the table opposite me, one person to the left of the one in front of me. She had told me on the train ride to Hogwarts that she was in Ravenclaw, but I just remembered that now.

"Thanks!" I said, and smiled. "I honestly wasn't sure which house I would get. It didn't worry me too much, though. I would have been fine with any house."

I took a piece of chicken off my plate and bit into it eagerly, savoring the taste. It was delicious.

Cho looked at me.

"Really?" She asked, "it seemed like the Sorting Hat nearly put you in Slytherin. Would you have been alright with _that?" _

"Okay," I admitted, "Maybe not Slytherin. But any of the other houses would have been alright."

Cho popped a piece of food into her mouth.

"I was really that worried about which house you would be in, either," she told me matter-of-factly. "You seem like a Ravenclaw.

I ate in silence for the rest of the meal, listening to the buzz of conversation all around me. I liked it this way – being surrounded by voices, by people, but being in solitude at the same time. It was a nice feeling, being alone and being surrounded by other people. I felt safe.

Cho, however, was not exactly that type. She was surrounded by her friends, and constantly chatted with them. They seemed quite friendly. And even though it wasn't the way I live, I respected that about Cho. Everybody has their own way of living. Of course, there are a few kinds of people I just couldn't stand, like Draco Malfoy and all the prissy girls who wore skirts that were too short and begged for attention. The "popular" sort of girls. Not like Cho, who was popular and sensible at the same time.

Dinner flew by, as did desert, and before I knew it, it was time to head to our dormitories. I was pretty excited to see the Ravenclaw common room.

I followed the rest of the Ravenclaw house through Hogwarts, walking through halls and climbing staircases. Eventually, we got to the top of a particular spiral staircase, and stopped. There was a door in front of the crowd. It had no doorknob or keyhole, but there was a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Someone reached out and rapped on the door with the knocker a few times, and the eagle started talking!

"If something is invisible, is it also intangible?" The eagle cawed.

"No." Someone said without explained why, sounding bored. The door swung open.

"You answer questions to get inside?" I asked Cho.

"Yes. Sometimes riddles." Cho said. "It's supposed to help you learn. If you get it wrong, you have to wait for someone else to get it right."

"Do the other houses have to answer questions?" I asked.

"No," Cho said. "They have passwords. We're the only house that has to answers questions. Probably because Ravenclaw has the reputation for being smart."

"That's quite a reputation to live up to." I noted, wondering if I was smart enough to be in Ravenclaw. Cho elbowed me in the ribs lightly.

"Hey," She said, "I know what you're thinking. Don't. If the sorting hat chose you to be in Ravenclaw, then Ravenclaw is where you belong. Don't worry about it."  
I smiled.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

We all filed into the common room. I looked around curiously, taking in the sight of what was going to be my home for a long while.

It was a beautiful, round room, with a vaulted ceiling and arched windows. The ceiling was blue and painted with lifelike stars, with blue and bronze fabric extending from the middle of the ceiling to the edges. The room was furnished with many tables, chairs and bookshelves, which shone like they had been cleaned two minutes ago (undoubtledly, there was some sort of enchantment on them). On the side of the room opposite to us stood a statue of a woman, which appeared to be made of White marble. In the background, I could hear the faint sound of whistling wind. It was relaxing.

"Right, then," a boy said, stepping forward. "Welcome to Ravenclaw, first years. Through that door"- he pointed to a door I hadn't realized was there before, behind the statue-"are the dormitories. Girls' dormitory on the right, boys' dormitory on the left. You'll find that your luggage is already up there. Unpack, find a bed, and get some shut-eye. You're in for a long day tomorrow."

I followed Cho through the door to the girls' dormitory. It was a nice room, nearly as impressive as the common room, with lots of beds everywhere and dark, Mahogany flooring. Each bed had a window behind it. I couldn't tell what the view was, since it was dark out, but I made a mental note to check it out in the morning. The ceiling, like the one in the common room, was bedazzled with stars. It felt cozy, and I liked it quite a bit.

The other girls and I picked our way over to where the luggage was. I grabbed one bag –I would have gotten two at a time, but the hand I twisted still hurt- and I walked over to an available bed. I slid my trunk underneath the bed, and walked back over to where my other bag sat. Only then did I realize what was on top of it.

"_Ima!" _I exclaimed loudly, holding up the small snake terrarium. Ima hissed and looked at me through the glass, something someone would normally take as a sign of aggression. But to me, it was just the way he greeted me.

"I don't understand," I murmured to myself. "I never brought Ima. And the rules say you can bring a cat, toad or owl. Not a snake. So why are you here…?"

As it happened, Cho overheard me.

"Hogwarts can be surprising sometimes," she said, with a small smile. "I've noticed that some other students brought minor pets to school. One boy had a Tarantula. Besides, nothing in the rules say you _can't _bring something other than a cat, owl or toad. And a Corn snake can't be much more dangerous than a Tarantula."

I smiled. She made a good point.

After our exchange, and after everyone got ready to go to sleep, I laid down in the bed I selected and shut my eyes. It took me a few minutes to drift, off, but I fell asleep listening to the wind rustling around the windows and Ima moving lazily through his cage.

It was perfect.

* * *

I took my seat in Transfiguration class, sitting down next to Hermione Granger, as not many other seats were available and she was the only other first year present whom I had the foggiest idea of who she was (other than Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, but I wouldn't sit next to them if I could).

I took out the book we had all received on transfiguration, and read over it a bit.

"Where'd you get your quill?" Someone asked me. I swiveled my head to the left a bit, to see Hermione Granger looking at me. "I've never seen one with a pattern quite like that. It's _very _pretty."

"My father gave it to me," I said. "His mother handed it down to him when he attended Hogwarts. It's made from an Ice bird's feather."

I hoped I didn't sound like I was bragging. I just wanted to explain what it was.

"Oh, _that's _where I've seen a feather like that before! I've read about Ice birds. _Marvelous _creatures." She paused for a moment, and then extended her hand. "Hermione Granger. Gryffindor."

"Miko Alura," I said, shaking hands with her, even though I already knew her name. "Ravenclaw."

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Of _course_. _That's _where I've seen you before. I remember you from the sorting ceremony. You were nearly placed in Slytherin, right?"

"That's right." I said. "I'm glad I wasn't, though. Rough house, that one."

Just then, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley burst in through the door, running.

Most of us shot looks over our shoulders at them as they came in, but some of the students ignored them and went about their business as if nothing happened. I wondered if they would get punished for being late. Next to me, Hermione shook her head in disappointment.

"Whew," Ron said, "made it. Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?"

No sooner had he finished his sentence than the cat on the desk in the front of the room leapt off it and, in mid jump, transformed into Professor McGonagall.

_Wow, _I thought. _No wonder she teaches transfiguration._

Ron and Harry stared at her, eyes wide.

"That was _bloody _brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

McGonagall looked at him in a way that could almost be described as pitying.

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley." she said, "Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch? That way, one of you might be on time!"

"We got lost…" Harry said sheepishly.

"Then perhaps a map!" McGonagall said. "I trust you don't need one to find your seats."

Harry and Ron sat down at their seats quietly, and the lesson began.

"Now, today we will be studying a simple yet efficient charm." McGonagall informed us. "Can anyone tell me what the spell _Epoximise _does?

Next to me, Hermione's hand shot up. I saw a few other people's hand shoot up, too.

"Yes, Miss Parvati?" Professor McGonagall said, nodded to a girl whom I recognized as another first year from Ravenclaw.

"_Epoximise _binds two objects together," the girl said. "If you try to detach the objects, the subjects would cling to each other, stretching and sticking like putty."

"Very good!" McGonagall said. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

I felt a rush of pride. It felt good, knowing my house had at least a few points, even if I didn't earn them.

"Now, I want you to hold your wands in front of you, flick lightly, and, _very _clearly, say _Epoximise._ Like so."

Professor McGonagall held out her wands, gave it a light flick, and said, "_Epoximise." _

A small glint of light emitted from her wand, and she held up the two items she had directed the spell at, a small, silver goblet and a piece of paper underneath. She attempted to remove the objects from each other, only to have them stick together as if they had been glued. The logical side of me wanted to ask why the paper wasn't ripping, but I already knew the answer; magic.

"Now, I want all of you to try that for a few minutes with a sheet of paper and anything else you brought with you to class. Begin."

Immediately, the buzz of people talking filled the room. Next to me, Hermione was having little trouble getting the spell down. She looked at her newly attached paper and quill and smiled.

"Are you going to try?" She asked me, with a friendly smile.

"Yes," I said, "I was just waiting for someone else to do it so I could see it again. I'll try now."

I cleared my throat, pointing my wand down at my sheet of paper. I had placed my transfiguration book on it, not wanting to risk accidentally damaging my quill. The book could be replaced; the quill was a special antique.

"_Epoximise!" _I shouted, flicking my wand.

My wand glowed. I smiled in triumph, and reached down with the hand my wand wasn't in and tried to pick the book up off the sheet of paper, assuming it would stick together.

It didn't.

"Huh?" I said.

Hermione frowned.

"Maybe you should try again." She suggested.

I scowled down at the paper, and held my wand up, gripping it tightly.

"_Epoximise!" _I shouted, anger in my voice this time.

However, I flicked my wand a bit too hard. I let go, and it flew out of my hand.

Or that's what would have happened, if my hand and my wand weren't _magically bound together!_

When I realized that my hand was stuck to my wand, I let out a loud yelp, and attempted to yank it off. Of course, that didn't work.

The commotion had, of course, drawn the attention of the other students. A light snickering was filling the air now, and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"Look!" Someone sneered. "Alura's glued her hand to her wand! At least now she won't have to worry about losing her wand_...although, _I did hear sometimes they have to surgically remove hands when things like this happen. So maybe she _should _worry about losing her wand. _And _her hand!"

I identified the voice straight off as Malfoy's. Rage flooded my mind, and my eyes watered with anger.

That was the first sign that he recognized me from King's Cross, and I wasn't happy about that, either.

"Shut up!" I shouted. "At least I stuck _something _together! You haven't even managed to do that."

It was true. His sheet of paper and his quill were still separated.

"That's enough, both of you!" Professor McGonagall snapped, walking over to where I was.

Off to the side, I could see Draco smirking. Arrogant rich-boy.

"Oh, my," She said, after studying my hand. "Not to worry, dear. We'll have you fixed up soon. Things like this have happened before. Just wait until class is over, alright?"

I sighed grudgingly, and nodded. So far I did _not _like transfiguration.

* * *

I opened the door to my first potion class quietly, trying not to alert the other students of my presence. After the incident in transfiguration (which Professor McGonagall cured with a simple counter spell), I was keeping a low profile among the other first years. I didn't want to be teased any more than necessary.

Most of the seats were already taken. The back row was completely filled already. The majority of the open seats were in the front row, but Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were seated there, so there was no way I was sitting up there. I selected the only other open seat, which was in the middle row, between Harry Potter and a girl I didn't know. I fingered my quill absently, waiting for class to start.

"Excuse me," A voice said, which I recognized as Harry's. "Other than last night and today, have I seen you before? You look familiar."

"Huh?" I said, semi-confused, before registering that someone was talking to me. "Oh! Yeah, we bumped into each other a couple times in Diagon Alley the other day. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Oh," He said. "Don't worry about it. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"I'm Ron Weasly!" Ron called from a few spaces over. Apparently he'd been listening.

"Hi," I said to both of them, smiling awkwardly.

"Are you the one who got their wand stuck to their hand?" Ron asked, half-smirking.

I grumbled, "Yeah. Yeah, that was me." And looked away from them.

The doors flew open a few seconds later, and in walked the Professor. Hermione had told me after transfiguration that his name was Professor Snape, and he wasn't known for being the friendliest teacher ever. Quite the opposite, actually.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class." He informed us in a monotone voice. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those _select few _who possess the predisposition…I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in d_eath."_

A few of the students shot each other excited looks. I have to say, I thought that sounded pretty interesting myself, even if our teacher wasn't the most thrilling person ever.

"Then again…" Professor Snape continued, his dark eyes glinting maliciously, "Perhaps _some _of you have come to Hogwarts with passion of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to _not pay attention!" _

The Professor spat his last three words out venomously, directing his line of sight over at Harry. I looked down, realizing he was taking notes. Even though he was just trying to be a good student, he was focusing so much on the things Snape said he could teach that he had completely blocked out everything else – including Snape's other words.

Hermione gave him a brisk elbow to the side, and he looked up, startled. He set his quill back down in his inkwell sheepishly and turned his attention to Professor Snape.

I remembered a time last year when I wasn't paying attention, mostly because I was stressing over an assignment and playing the facts out in my head. When I was called on for the answer to a question and I didn't know it, the teacher thought I had been dozing off in class. It got me a detention.

I felt bad for Harry. Unfortunately for me, I knew where he was coming from.

Snape walked over with a dramatic flourish of his cloak.

"Mr. Potter." he said. "Our new…_celebrity. _Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot straight up. I looked over at her quietly, wracking my brain for the answer.

While I was waiting for the end of transfiguration class, while everybody else was practicing magic, I was studying for potions class, since I knew I had that next. It was so frustrating – I had _just _read about that combination, and yet I couldn't remember!

"You don't know?" Snape said, clearly unimpressed. "Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a Bezoar?"

Again, Hermione's hand shot straight up. I didn't even remember reading about Bezoars.

"I don't know, Sir." Was Harry's simple answer.

"And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

_Oh! _I thought excitedly. _I remember this one! That's a trick question – they're the same plant._

But I didn't raise my hand, because I knew I wouldn't be called. Hermione, obviously, didn't care – her hand stayed firmly planted in the air above her head, shaking slightly with anticipation.

"I don't know, Sir." Harry murmured once again.

"Pity." Snape said, even though we all knew it wasn't a pity at all to him. "Clearly, fame isn't everything. Is it, Mr. Potter?"

In the front of the room, Malfoy turned around and flashed a triumphant grin at Harry. His eyes swept the room, targeting each student at a time, and for a split second our eyes met. I hardened my gaze, giving him a stern glare. His smirk did not vanish, but he turned around and faced forward again (I doubted this was because of me – it was probably because I was one of the last people in the room, since I was at the end of the middle table).

Harry gave Snape a long, cold stare, before the professor turned and strutted back over to his desk.

"Open your books to page 5," He said flatly.

* * *

I sat in the Great Hall next to Cho, listening to some kid from Gryffindor practice a spell.

I was trying to study up on transfiguration (I did _not _want a repeat of this morning's class!), but his shouting made it very hard to concentrate.

"Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum!"

I sighed and got out my potions book, flipping to a random page. Transfiguration just wasn't working for me right now. I skimmed the page quickly, taking in as much info as I could.

"Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, _turn this water into rum_!"

"Will he ever be quiet?" I muttered to Cho.

"Who knows?" She whispered back, cocking an eyebrow. "I heard you had quite the incident yourself today in transfiguration."

"Oh, yeah," I said, a small grin lighting up my face. Discussing it with other people seemed annoying, but talking to Cho about it gave it a humorous feeling. "Bloody _Epoximise _charm. I'm still not sure what went wrong exactly, but I'm-"

_**BAM!**_

All the heads in the Great Hall turned to see that the Gryffindorkid's spell had blown up in his face. Laughter echoed throughout the room, and I found myself chuckling along with them.

"Well," I said, "at least he'll leave us in peace now."

Cho giggled, her face lighting up with a smile. "Yeah. Who knows? Maybe next time _he'll _be the one annoyed by one of _us. _

At that moment a squawk sounded overhead, followed by various other forms of hoots and bird chatter. I looked up in surprise to see owls flying in through the windows.

"Oh!" Cho exclaimed. "Mail's here."

"Do you think I got anything?" I asked.

"Probably. I got a letter from my parents on the first mail day last year."

"Hmm."

I looked around, trying to spot my father's owl, Barely, a White Barn owl. He was a smart guy, but a bit clumsy. I guess I can relate. I've always been a little bit ditzy when it comes to organization (although I can be quite good at organizing things when I really put my mind to it), and I'm often tripping over my own feet.

Sure enough, I spotted Barely fly in through a window to the left of me, just barely making the turn. He had a letter clasped in his beak.

As he flew overhead, he dropped the letter. I reached up, catching it in between my thumb and forefinger.

I looked over and saw the Cho had gotten a letter, too, and a package.

She said, "See? I knew you'd get something." And started tearing away at her own letter.

I fingered the envelope, which was a plain white color. On the front was my name and the return address, both written in what I recognized was my father's handwriting. There was a lump in the envelope, as if there was a small present in there, too.

I peeled the front of it open, and took out the letter.

This is what it said:

_Dear Miki,_

_How are you doing? I hope you're settling in well! Your mother and I are doing well, although we miss you, of course. I hope this letter got here, now that I think of it. You know how Barely can be sometimes! Congratulations on getting into Ravenclaw, dear! Your mother and I are both proud. Even though I was in Hufflepuff during my time at Hogwarts, I always thought that Ravenclaw was one of the best. Also, try to control that temper of yours. Not that I have any doubts you'll do well in Hogwarts. Please write us soon!_

_Wishing you the best,_

_Mother and Father_

_P.S._

_I put an old pin of my mother's in here. She was in Ravenclaw, too, you know! It was a little rusty, but a little polish fixed that right up. I hope you like it!_

I folded the letter back up, smiling to myself, and I placed it back inside the envelope. Then I reached back inside, taking out the pin my father had put in the letter. I held it up to the light, examining it.

It was a beautifully carved hawk pin that appeared to be made of bronze (or at least some other metal painted to look like bronze). The hawk was in mid-flight; its wings stretched wide, its beak open in a silent cry. The eyes were clear, blue crystals that shone brilliantly.

I understood why my father had sent it immediately. Ravenclaw's house animal was a hawk; the colors were bronze and blue. It was the perfect present for a new Ravenclaw student.

"Thank you." I whispered, and made a mental note to thank my father in person when I saw him again.

"That's very pretty." Cho said, snapping me out of my small trance.

"Thank you." I said. "My father sent it."

"He was a Ravenclaw?"

"No, my grandmother was. The pin was handed down to him."

"Ah! I see. Well, it suits you."

I looked over at her package.

"What did you get?" I asked her.

"Oh," Cho said. "My mother sent me a few new robes. It was very thoughtful of her – she had meant to take me robe shopping before I left for Hogwarts, but we were always busy with something or another. I'm really glad they arrived when they did…don't you think my robe looks a bit small?"

"No," I said honestly. "You look just fine. I'm sure everyone else thinks so, too."

"Thanks," Cho said, smiling. "Now, let's see if we can get some _real _study time in before our next class.

* * *

My class and I stood in two organized lines, with brooms lying on the grass in front of us. I had gotten stuck between Ron and another boy whom I didn't know. A few paces east of where I was standing, Madam Hooch, our flight class instructor, started walking down the aisle we had formed.

"Good afternoon, class," She called out to us.

"Good afternoon, Madam Hooch." We said, perfectly in-sync.

Madam Hooch murmured a few other words to some of the other first years as she walked down the lane, and then came to stop at the end.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson!" She said. "Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up."

We did as we were instructed, and stepped to the left.

Ron went a bit slow, though, and I bumped into him.

"Whoops," I whispered. "Excuse me."

"It's fine." He said back, in a hushed voice. "It was my fault, really."

Madam Hooch waited a few moments for everyone to get into place, and then continued.

"Stick your right hand out over the broom and say 'up.'"

Everyone immediately obeyed, and frantic voices filled the air.

"Up!"

"Up."

"Come on, you stupid broom! _UP!"_

I looked down at my broom doubtfully.

"Up," I said. Nothing happened.

_Of course, _I thought sarcastically.

"_Up," _I muttered, trying to put a little more conviction into my voice this time.

And up the broom went! Right into the palm of my hand. I looked around proudly; quite a few of the other students had theirs, too. Hermione and Ron seemed to be struggling to get theirs under control, though.

"Hey, Alura," Draco Malfoy said from across the field. "Don't forget to keep a firm grip on your broom. Oh, that's right…_you don't have to._"

I turned my head away, clouds of anger gathering in my mind. My fists were clenched into balls, so I shoved my free hand into my pocket.

_Just ignore him, _I told myself. _Count to ten, just like the counselor said._

"_UP!" _Ron shouted, frustration edging his voice. And, unfortunately for him, his broom flew up. Right into his forehead.

"Oof!" He said, backing up a few paces and rubbing the place the broom smacked into. To his right, Harry was snickering at him quietly.

"Oh, shut up, Harry." Ron muttered.

"Are you alright?" I asked. It had looked painful.

"Brilliant." Ron muttered. "Just brilliant."

After a few more minutes, everybody had gotten their broomsticks to come up, and Madam Hooch continued with the lesson.

"Now," She said, "Once you've got hold of you broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, we don't want to be sliding off the end."

We all obliged, shuffling around to get securely positioned on our broomsticks.

"When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground – _high._ Keep your brooms steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly, and touch back down. On my whistle…three…two…_TWEET!" _

Before anybody else got a change to touch off, Neville Longbottom, the boy who lost his toad, started floating up into the air.

"A-Ahh!" He exclaimed, steadily rising.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch exclaimed, as excited voices murmured all around.

"Neville!"

"What are you _doing?" _

"Get down!"

"Come back!"

Finally, Madam Hooch tried to intervene (sort of).

"Mr.…Mr. Longbottom! _Mr. Longbottom!" _

"Neville!" Harry shouted as Neville shot off on his broom like a rocket.

"Ahh! Help! _Help!" _Neville shouted, clinging onto his broom for dear life.

"Come back down _this instant!" _Madam Hooch exclaimed angrily.

Neville's screams only increased after that, when his broom started violently jerking him up and down, side to side, and then proceeded to spin him in full circles. He then shot right at the castle, bouncing back off the stone a couple times before his broom pulled him in a whole new direction – back towards the grass.

But right before he hit, the broom jerked up suddenly, and flew _very_ fast, only a few inches off of the ground.

"Mr. Longbottom!" Madam Hooch shouted.

She started to pull out her wand, but didn't get a chance to cast whatever spell she was going to.

In the instant she held her wand up, we all dove to the side, because Neville flew _right over _the spot we had just been in!

He then zipped through the small corridor behind us, and back out into the crisp air once again.

Up and up he flew, in a perfectly vertical line. But then, suddenly, the broom violently jerked one last time, putting him off on yet another new course.

Neville was headed straight toward a statue!

Just as I thought he was about to crash into it, he managed to turn just a bit, and I figured he would zoom on by it. But no, not this time.

The back of Neville's robe got caught on the tip of the spear the statue was holding, and his broom shot out from under him, flying off to some other place.

The fact that he had stopped was, of course, a good thing…but the particular place he had stopped _in _wasn't. It looked as if he might fall at any given moment.

We all ran over, gathering in a crowd around where he might land if he fell. Most of us shouted up reassuring words to him, but some, like Malfoy, just sneered. I said nothing, but clutched at my robes nervously.

"Help!" Neville shouted. I could see his hand shaking even from where I was standing, far below.

And then his robe started to rip, and Neville fell to the Earth below.

For a split second I thought he would be okay, for his robe caught once again on a large, black scone only a few feet off the ground, but then he fell again.

I let out an alarmed gasp and hurriedly back up with the rest of the first years. Neville hit the ground, letting out an agonized moan as he lay on the grass.

Madam Hooch shouted, "Everyone out of the way!" And hurriedly jogged over to where Neville lay.

"Is he alright?" Hermione murmured.

"I think so," I whispered back. "That scone may have saved his life."

Madam Hooch helped Neville sit up, examining him for any broken bones while he quietly whimpered. "Oh oh oh oh oh, come on, now, good boy. Up you get."

Out of the corner of my left eye, a flash of motion caught my eye. I turned my head slightly to see Malfoy. He was picking up something.

It looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd seen it before. Then it registered.

Earlier at the Great Hall, when our mail arrived, I had heard from my table that Neville had received something called a Remembrall, and as I was leaving, I had caught a quick glance of it.

"Everyone is to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing. Understand?" Madame Hooch said, walking Neville towards the door leading back inside the castle. "If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say 'quidditch.'"

As soon as Madame Hooch was out of earshot, Malfoy held up Neville's Remembrall with a smirk.

"Did you see his face?" He sneered. "Maybe if the fat lug had given this a squeeze, he would've remembered to fall on his fat ass!"

Harry stepped towards Draco, an angry look on his face.

"Give it here, Malfoy." He snapped.

Draco turned around to face him, his features twisted into a smug look of contempt.

"No." He said. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find."

And, with that, he jumped on his broomstick, taking off.

"How about on the roof?" He said, grinning. "What's the matter, Potter? A bit beyond your reach?"

I stood there, watching the scene unfold dumbly. I had no idea how to fly – I couldn't go get the Remembrall myself.

_I wish there was more I could do, _I thought.

Harry turned and slung his leg over the side of his broomstick. Hermione, who realized what he was doing, grabbed ahold of his shoulder abruptly.

"Harry, _no way." _She snapped. "You _heard _what Madam Hooch said. Besides, you don't even know how to fly!"

But Harry just kicked off the ground like he'd had years of practice, similar to the way Malfoy had, and sped off.

"What an idiot." Hermione muttered.

Harry rose up to the same level as Draco, hovering in front of him.

"Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!" He shouted.

"Is that so?" Malfoy said, feigning mock fear.

Harry lunged forward, making a grab for the Remembrall, which Draco was tossing up and down expertly. The only thing he succeeded in was spinning Malfoy around and speeding a little bit further away from us.

"Have it your way, then." Malfoy said, and with a grin, hurled the Remembrall as far away as he could.

Around me, everyone took in a sharp inhalation of breath. I realized that I wasn't breathing, and I forced myself to start again.

Harry, like a lightning bolt, shot after the Remembrall.

For a few moments it seemed as if he wasn't going to catch it, but then he came to a standstill right in front of a window, holding something shiny up. Then he flew back over to where we were all waiting quickly.

"He did it!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't believe it!"

As Harry neared the ground, we ran over to him, cheering in celebration. Now Neville wouldn't have to come out of the Hospital Wing to bad news.

"Great job, Harry." Someone said, followed by many other various praises.

"Good job, Harry!"

"Yeah, nice work!"

"Couldn't have done it better myself."

"That was _wicked, _Harry!"

And then, all of a sudden, with two words, the celebration ended.

"Harry Potter!"

We turned, only to see Professor McGonagall standing there, looking at Harry quietly.

Whoops.

We stood there, stock-still, waiting for the punishment she was about to deliver. But it didn't come.

Instead, the professor simply said, "Follow me." And walked away.

Harry followed, wearing an anxious expression. I fingered the pin on my robes nervously.

"Oh, man," Ron said. "He's in for it now. Do you think she's taking him to the headmaster's office?"

"_Obviously!" _Hermione snorted. "I warned him. Now he's going to get expelled, just like Madam Hooch said."

Suddenly, the clouds of anger were gathering in my mind again. Without thinking, I strutted over to Malfoy.

"_You!" _I growled. "This is your fault! Just because he was being nice –because he was doing the right thing-, he's going to get _expelled! _And, of course, as usual…it was _you! _I…"

I trailed off, my mind clearing. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Run out of steam, Alura?" He snorted.

I said nothing.

"Thought so. Go bother someone who cares."

At my sides, my hands were shaking.

_One…two…three…_ I thought, closing my eyes.

I had always had anger management issues, although recently I had been getting better. I had gotten from a school, once, when I was nine. I had punched another student. Hard. My parents had signed me up for counseling after that, but old emotions had been reaching a boil again ever since I had come to Hogwarts.

Everyone began to walk off in their own directions, going to whatever class they happened to have next. Soon, the only people who remained were Ron, Hermione and me.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked me.

I blinked, loosening my clenched fists. I hadn't moved since the exchange between Malfoy and me.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." I said. "Sorry I worried you."

"That was really brave of you," Ron said. "I could never have stood up to Malfoy like that."

I smiled, grateful for the kind gesture.

"People change overtime," I said. "I'm sure one day you'll be able to. It doesn't take much to tell the little snot off."

Even though Ron and Hermione were being nice to me, and my rage had dwindled, I wasn't letting this go so easily. Ever since the first time I saw Malfoy, he had been nothing but rude and cruel.

No, it was past time he got what was coming. And I had a plan.

* * *

Dinner had just begun, but I wasn't at my table yet. As the other students started wolfing their food down, I stood off to the side, pressed against the wall closest to the Slytherin table, conveniently concealed behind piece of fabric hanging down from the ceiling.

I had gotten to the Great Hall an hour earlier than everyone else, including the teachers, so I would have time to prepare my little trap.

I placed a small vial of liquid –a _very _small one- next to the place on the Slytherin table's bench where Malfoy had sat at breakfast and dinner. I wasn't sure if he had sat there at lunch – I had been taking ingredients for my potion from Snape's classroom then.

It had been easy, since he was at lunch, and I made sure to take some from the back of his stores so he wouldn't notice. Then I had gone back into the girls' dormitory and brewed the potion, following the instructions in my potions book.

It took a little trial and error, but it was a beginners' recipe, so I caught on quickly. I had also studied up on the spell _Wingardium Leviosa, _the levitation charm.

Now, an hour later, the students and teachers began filling up the Great Hall. I stood behind the gigantic piece of cloth, hoping that nobody noticed the small, opened vial of potion. I also hoped the exact _opposite _didn't happen – that whoever sat there carelessly knocked over the contents of my hard work.

Soon, I noticed Draco walking over to the Slytherin table. He sat down, about an inch away from the vial of potion. _Yes! _

All I had to do now was wait for my opportunity. And, fortunately for me, it came sooner than I had hoped for.

Draco was turned away from the potion, chatting to Crabbe about something, and nobody had sat across from him this dinner. Double luck.

I raised my wand, and as discretely as I could, I murmured, _"Wingardium Leviosa."_

Slowly, very slowly, as to avoid attention, I rose the small potion up. Like I said, I had removed the cap beforehand, so this part would be easy. All I had to do was hope nobody saw.

Finally, I twisted my wand gently so the potion poured into Draco's drink, mixing with the liquid. I then lowered the now-empty potion vial as fast as I dared, setting it on the floor.

_Clink_.

The small noise was like a bomb going off to me.

Fortunately, nobody else seemed to notice. I let out a sigh of relief, just as Malfoy took a sip of his drink.

At first, nothing happened.

_Oh, no! _I fretted. _I must have made a mistake while brewing it!_

But then something happened.

With a small _pop, _a mushroom sprung up on Malfoy's face.

And then another one.

And then another one.

"Bloody hell, Draco!" Crabbe exclaimed, jumping out of his seat in fright. "Your-Your face!"

The potion I had brewed was called _Fungiface, _and the name pretty much says it all. When concocted properly, it makes the subject's face grow fungi of all different kinds. And let me tell you – at this point, Malfoy was looking like a mushroom flapjack.

Draco raised a hand to his face, placing it on top of one of the fungi. He yanked the cap off, and studied it for a moment, before letting out a high-pitched scream.

"Wha-What's happened to me? It's hideous! There are _mushrooms…ON MY FACE! _Crabbe, Goyle! What-"

Malfoy's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

_The potion book _did _say it causes some side effects sometimes…oh well. He deserved that._

At that point, the professors were rushing over, and talking about taking him to the Hospital Wing.

I stood behind the long piece of cloth with a smirk on my face.

Malfoy had finally got what he had coming.


End file.
